Meant to Be: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

by Andreea Catana

  Dearest Jane,

  I cannot convey in a simple letter how delighted I am to hold your letter in my hands. Your words have come at the right time, as always. Even when you are not with me…

  Elizabeth lifted her eyes from the missive when a murmur of voices outside reached her. Charlotte hurried in an agitation towards the entrance and into the parlour.

  “Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam are here!”

  Elizabeth put down her quill and stood, leaving the letter on the table. Charlotte arranged her appearance in a small mirror in the room and spoke hastily.

  “I did not expect them to come today with all the work I have to do in the house. I hope they do not stay long. “

  “I am sure it is just a quick visit.” Elizabeth flushed a little, remembering the thoughts she had harboured the previous nights and hoping they would not show on her face.

  A maid entered the parlour, announcing Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam, and the gentlemen stepped into the room. Elizabeth noticed that Mr. Darcy looked rather pale with dark circles beneath his blue eyes.

  The young ladies curtseyed and sat on the sofa, not sure what they should speak of. Colonel Fitzwilliam broke the heaviness in the room by complimenting Charlotte for her fine house, and conversation flowed naturally between the colonel and his hostess.

  Mr. Darcy said nothing; instead, he looked at Elizabeth with a different expression on his face than she had seen before. She had seen him look reserved, even amused, but not like this. He appeared to be engrossed in something. Could he be pondering Lady Catherine’s insistence that he announce his engagement to Miss de Bourgh?

  Elizabeth wanted nothing more than to find an answer to her questions, but knew she could do no such thing. She was glad, however, to hear Charlotte speak again.

  “Mr. Collins has told us that Lady Catherine will host a ball at the end of the week.”

  “Yes,” the colonel answered amusedly, “it has taken us by surprise. Would you not agree, Darcy?”

  Mr. Darcy agreed then added, addressing the young ladies, “I suppose I shall see you both there.”

  Elizabeth paused in confusion, sensing that he was addressing the question to her; however, it was Charlotte who answered.

  “Mr. Collins and I are happy to partake in such a great event. We can hardly wait.”

  Mr. Darcy looked at Elizabeth once more, this time asking the young lady directly, “And will you be there too, Miss Bennet?”

  Elizabeth was startled at first, but upon feeling herself more composed, she looked back at him with confidence. However, when she spoke she found her voice to be faltering.

  “Y-Yes, Lady Catherine has been generous enough to invite me.”

  “Good!” Mr. Darcy said without reserve, amazing everyone in the room.

  The awkwardness was more than evident, but it was Colonel Fitzwilliam who broke it. “Then the evening will surely be even more pleasant.”

  Elizabeth felt grateful for his intervention and barely dared to look at Mr. Darcy again. What was he thinking in giving such a response? Does he want me to be there? Or am I being ridiculous to imagine so much?

  The visit soon came to a conclusion, leaving the two ladies to discuss it.

  “Mr. Darcy was a bit odd this morning, was he not, Lizzy?”

  “He indeed seemed preoccupied with something,” Elizabeth admitted.

  “I think I must be right that this ball will be the occasion to announce his official engagement. Lady Catherine will have her way, believe me,” Charlotte continued in a low voice, as though fearing to be heard. “That woman is absolutely impossible. She will bend and crush the will of anyone when it comes to her own interests.”

  Charlotte’s words hit her with their full force, and Elizabeth struggled not to show her emotions. She answered as calmly as her distress allowed.

  “You are probably right, Charlotte. She will have her way.”

  ***

  Mr. Collins returned to the parsonage late in the evening, he summoned the ladies in the parlour for an excellent piece of information. Elizabeth noticed two large parcels lying on the table, and although her curiosity was piqued, she sat patiently on the sofa, awaiting an explanation.

  With much importance, Mr. Collins spoke. “There will be no more than twenty people at the ball. And I think you are right, Mrs. Collins. I do believe her ladyship expects some sort of announcement from her nephew. She is extremely confident. In fact, she is so sure of the outcome that she has sent two gowns for you, knowing that you cannot afford them. She demands that everything be perfect for such an occasion.”

  Elizabeth looked incredulously as Mr. Collins introduced to them two ballroom gowns he had brought with him as a sign of gratitude from her ladyship. They were heavy and old-fashioned, but the fabric was handsome.

  “Mr. Collins, upon my word, these are magnificent!” Charlotte spoke and then turned to Elizabeth. “Are they not, Lizzy?”

  “They are, Charlotte,” Elizabeth said, rather mortified at the thought of wearing one of them.

  “With different trimming and some modern adjustments, they will be as good as new. No one will know where they came from.”

  “You will look wonderful, Charlotte.”

  “What about you, Lizzy?”

  “I shall wear the only proper gown I brought with me. As lovely as these are, I find their quality too noble for me.”

  Mr. Collins replied that she could not offend her ladyship by rejecting her kind offer.

  Mr. Collins, I assure you I have no intention to offend, and I doubt that her ladyship will even notice that I have chosen my own gown.”

  “As you wish, then,” Mr. Collins said, shaking his head in displeasure at such stubbornness and concluding the discussion.

  After her moment of effusion, Charlotte told Mr. Collins about the visit they received earlier that, according to her, confirmed Lady Catherine’s expectations for the grand evening.

  “God willing, we shall soon have a wedding here at Rosings, my dear. Imagine—blessing the union of Mr. Darcy and Miss de Bourgh! Oh, what an honour, upon my word!”

  “You deserve it, Mr. Collins!” Charlotte exclaimed, excited about what the future might hold for them.

  Elizabeth was no longer interested in their conversation and excused herself. In her chamber, she could give way to the tears that had threatened all day.

  Chapter Six

  When Elizabeth entered the hall at Rosings the night of the ball, she barely recognized the place. The furniture at the entrance had been replaced with simple sofas for the ladies to rest. A large number of servants patiently stood at the entrance like a formidable army ready to engage the enemy. Elizabeth had dressed with more care than usual, her simple muslin gown adorned with a wild flowers she had collected from the path near Mr. Collins’s house. She had arranged her hair elegantly to the advantage of her bright eyes and slim figure. Charlotte was a severe contrast; the gown she had chosen from Lady Catherine’s offerings was a large with a high neck and much ribbon and lace. Her movement was limited, and she had difficulty getting in and out of the carriage.

  No announcement was made at their entrance; their names were not called in the fashionable manner. However, Mr. Collins lead the two ladies to her ladyship’s presence when she was unattended by other guests. Her ladyship acknowledged their presence and returned her attention to Mr. Darcy, who was sitting next to her, as was her daughter, Anne.

  After greeting Lady Catherine and her daughter, Elizabeth turned her gaze to the gentleman in question, saying only, “Mr. Darcy…”

  He stood, bowing his head to Elizabeth coldly; in that instant, their eyes met, and Elizabeth saw that Mr. Darcy was as aloof as ever. No joy was seen on his face, and he appeared rather bored and displeased. Colonel Fitzwilliam, in contrast, was all smiles and received Elizabeth warmly. Elizabeth then walked off with Charlotte to a corner of the room, from whence they could watch all the guests without being noticed.

  “It is a fine b
all, is it not?” Charlotte exclaimed as she tasted a cup of tea. “Different than the one in Meryton!”

  “Yes, it is elegant indeed,” Elizabeth said with restraint. Her eyes went to Mr. Darcy again, and she saw him rise to greet a party of people that had just entered. From his reaction, Elizabeth could see that they were friends—or at least close acquaintances. The youngest, a gentleman with curly hair like a cherub and exquisite manners, greeted Mr. Darcy with a delighted smile. The lady next to him whispered something in Mr. Darcy’s ear that made him smile. Elizabeth felt a strange pain in her stomach at their proximity and turned her head, disturbed by such acknowledgments.

  “Oh, how I wish I could dance, Elizabeth,” Charlotte complained and brought Elizabeth back to reality. “But I am afraid that in this gown I shall barely be able to move. Perhaps you will dance for me also.”

  “I rather think we shall both spend our night admiring others, Charlotte. At least, we have the best seats for that.” Elizabeth turned her gaze towards Mr. Darcy once more, but she could find him no longer. Her eyes roamed around the room, but he was gone, as was his party. Instead, her eyes found Colonel Fitzwilliam who, upon seeing her, moved towards her. Elizabeth stood and curtseyed. Charlotte tried to move too, but the weight of the gown prevented her doing so. She sat down, defeated.

  “There is no need, Mrs. Collins.” Colonel Fitzwilliam hid his white lie behind a smile. “You must surely take care of that leg of yours.” Then he turned to Elizabeth once again. “Miss Elizabeth, allow me to tell you how wonderful you look tonight!”

  “Thank you, sir; you are most kind.”

  “May I have the honour of your first set?”

  The request took Elizabeth by surprise; she had no disposition to dance, but she could not possibly refuse the colonel.

  “I would like that very much, sir,” she replied.

  “Good…excellent…well, I shall see you a little later,” he said then departed towards the other guests, glancing at Elizabeth several times.

  “Oh, how fortunate for you, Lizzy—to be asked for the first set by Colonel Fitzwilliam! He is such an amiable man—and so handsome! Who knows what your dance with him can bring you,” Charlotte whispered.

  “He is indeed charming, but I do not seek any special attention from him, Charlotte. A gracious dance is all I require.”

  Colonel Fitzwilliam proved a wonderful partner in dancing and conversation for Elizabeth, so the half hour passed quickly. Elizabeth saw Mr. Darcy dancing with the young lady who had entered the room earlier. They seemed not to talk during the entire set, the young lady preoccupied with stepping in time to the music and keeping her elegant posture.

  When the dances ended, the colonel asked Elizabeth whether he could introduce her to some friends from London. Elizabeth agreed, and to her great surprise, she was led to the party she had seen with Mr. Darcy earlier. As she approached, she observed that the young lady was studying her intensely. Elizabeth was aware that her simple gown was at the centre of her curiosity and disapproval, and she tried to respond to the cold look with a polite smile.

  “Lord Hastings, Miss Maxwell, allow me to introduce to you Miss Elizabeth Bennet. She is Mr. Collins’s cousin. You met Mr. Collins earlier.”

  A lack of interest spread over Miss Maxwell’s countenance, and she managed a faint smile.

  “Miss Bennet, I am delighted to make your acquaintance,” Lord Hastings said amiably.

  Miss Maxwell maintained a more reserved attitude and asked only, “So you live at the parsonage, Miss Bennet?”

  “Miss Bennet is a guest here. Her father owns an estate in Hertfordshire.” Darcy answered, and Elizabeth was surprised by his intervention.

  “Ah, the countryside—what a romantic notion!” Lord Hastings exclaimed.

  “And a rather boring one,” Miss Maxwell added. “I much prefer Town to any country estate. So much more to do and see. Is it not so, Mr. Darcy?”

  “A country estate certainly has its advantages, but it might be considered boring, I suppose—especially when compared to Town,” Elizabeth agreed. “It depends on the viewer’s preference.”

  “Every object of interest depends on the viewer’s preference,” Darcy intervened again, and Elizabeth’s surprise increased at his addressing her rather than Miss Maxwell. “I confess I am also fond of the country. If it were up to me, I would never leave Pemberley.”

  “Oh, but surely you cannot compare Pemberley to any other estate. If I were at Pemberley, I would surely not want to leave it either,” Miss Maxwell declared. Mr. Darcy offered no response to this but took another swallow from his drink.

  Miss Maxwell continued. “That reminds me…how is dear Georgiana, Mr. Darcy? We have not seen her for quite a while in London. We have missed her dearly, have we not, Lord Hastings?”

  Mr. Darcy paused as though not sure how to answer such a question. Elizabeth almost immediately noticed the exchange of worried looks between the two gentlemen, but having little intelligence in the matter, she was too confused to make anything of it.

  “My sister is rarely in company because she is not out yet,” Mr. Darcy replied briefly. “She enjoys time with her family and her companion.”

  “And practicing her piano forte. I have rarely met anyone as proficient as she is,” Colonel Fitzwilliam answered with determination. “We—the men in the family—are lacking any inclination in the arts, so she surely did not get her talent from us,” the colonel added in jest with another glance at his cousin, who breathed in relief.

  “On that I cannot argue,” Mr. Darcy said. “I believe another drink is required to celebrate our lack of talent.

  “Oh, I heartily disagree,” Miss Maxwell intervened with a smile directed at Darcy. “I find little lacking in you, sir.”

  Mr. Darcy seemed uncomfortable, but the colonel laughed loudly. “Well, few young ladies in want of a husband see anything lacking in Darcy. And yet, there is so much to see.”

  Mr. Darcy offered a trace of a grin. “I cannot argue with that either. Perhaps we should change the conversation to something less private. I am sure Miss Bennet is becoming bored.”

  Elizabeth startled, being addressed so directly. “No…not at all, I assure you…but you are kind to worry about me, sir.” With her teasing answer, their eyes met for an instant.

  This exchange drew Miss Maxwell’s attention to Elizabeth once again. “That is an interesting gown you have, Miss Bennet. So simple. So…flowery.”

  No one in attendance missed the barely hidden offense behind Miss Maxwell’s words. The presence of the gentlemen made Elizabeth flustered, and she considered her words carefully.

  “You are very kind to have observed. I was hoping my gown—not handsome enough for a ball—would rather go unnoticed. I did not expect to be invited to any parties while visiting my friend; therefore, I was not prepared.

  “Well, I believe your gown is charming, as is your entire appearance, Miss Bennet,” the colonel intervened. “I hope to stand with you for another set tonight.”

  “You are too kind, sir,” Elizabeth replied.

  “Well, the colonel might have to wait. I must ask you for the favour of a set, Miss Bennet,” Lord Hastings interfered, and Elizabeth was happy to oblige him.

  The displeasure was obvious on Miss Maxwell’s face, and she hurried to change the subject.

  “Her ladyship has exceeded herself with this party. It is yet another proof of Lady Catherine’s exquisite taste.”

  “My aunt will be glad to hear it.” Mr. Darcy replied politely.

  “I am eager to dance again,” Miss Maxwell insisted with a smile, hoping her hints were enough to be invited to dance once more.

  “Then allow me to be the second who has the honour of dancing with you,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said as the music started. He claimed his partner’s hand while Lord Hastings excused himself and turned to the lady he had previously invited for that set. Elizabeth suddenly found herself alone in Mr. Darcy’s company, and she felt uneasy. A strange s
hiver troubled her, and she found little to say. She was certain he had no interest in a private conversation, so she prepared to leave. But she startled when Mr. Darcy addressing her.

  “Miss Bennet, may I have the honour of this set?”

  She looked around for a moment, then her eyes met his, and she unconsciously agreed. Her heart pounded, and she prayed no such distress was visible on her face. Mr. Darcy claimed her hand, and she reminded herself that she had to regain control and find composure once again. She had given him reason to feel uncomfortable in her presence—God knows what he thinks of me after seeing me covered in mud from head to toe—and wished it not be repeated.

  Mr. Darcy and Miss Elizabeth took their place in the set, standing opposite each other. Elizabeth heard the music begin and followed the steps with a distress she could scarcely understand. She knew herself to be a good dancer, but she suddenly felt clumsy A few moments later, she found composure enough to enjoy the dance. Mr. Darcy was equally as pleasant as Colonel Fitzwilliam, although less talkative. Elizabeth thought of something to say to him, but his stern countenance was forbidding.

  “Miss Maxwell was correct, Mr. Darcy. This is a wonderful ball.”

  “All praise should be paid to her ladyship,” Mr. Darcy said shortly.

  “She was very generous to invite us.”

  Mr. Darcy turned his head to her. “A pleasant memory to take back with you to Hertfordshire?”

  “It is not the only pleasant memory I shall take back with me.”

  Mr. Darcy seemed surprised by such an answer and gave a simple “Oh” and a smile.

  Elizabeth was encouraged by this. “Of course, one should be able to laugh away all that troubles us, Mr. Darcy. With laughter, all silliness becomes a mere shadow and loses its power to embarrass us.”

  “Do you find amusement in all things, Miss Elizabeth?”

  “Only in those things that make us appear foolish.”